


Breakfast in Bed

by Scubapus



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fellatio, Fucking, Heterosexual Sex, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, PWP, Sex, Vaginal, Vaginal Fingering, handjob, intercourse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 12:36:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10662735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scubapus/pseuds/Scubapus
Summary: Boston's bonafide smugglers share a quiet morning together.





	Breakfast in Bed

**Author's Note:**

> First published work here. Written with some amazing authors in mind. Raffinit and Peppermint_smile have persistently encouraged me to share this piece and the many others I've been hoarding to myself. We'll see how this goes. This is my first public material published since 2010 and I've become fond of amassing private fan fiction since.
> 
> I figured Joel and Tess, while known for their rough exteriors and conduct, might indulge in a rare bit of intimacy here and there - within their personal limits and only because of their utmost trust in each other. They're only human, even if they deny it, and honestly I was interested in exploring how that might go. 
> 
> Naturally they'd kill anyone who caught wind of it, but only those with death wishes would risk it.

Tess’ senses woke to the feel of motion besides her. To that oh-so-familiar grumble Joel made when he came to and the careful shuffling of sheets as he moved. That dipping of the mattress adjusting to his shifting weight and the audible grating of cartilage hidden deep within scarred skin. The grunt that accompanied the assorted popping and crunching of weary bones readjusting, so very male and throaty, and then expansion of springs as they creaked in relief. All backed by the rugged breath of her partner more fully subjected to gravity.

She was not an early riser unless business demanded it. She intended to prove it, as she did every allowing morning, by remaining in the warm tunnel she had created for herself in the sheets. It anything, she might have considered drawing them higher over her bare shoulders...but Joel did it for her. Silently as to not disturb her, he covered her further. She could sense the pinch of blunt digits on the aged linen, and then the slow stroke of dilapidated fabric easing upwards along her neck.

She couldn't stifle the sound of lazy contentment that mosied from her. Then gave it again, as tentative fingers captured a fallen comma of cocoa hair and rearranged it behind her freckled ear. She knew nothing else, after registering the fading shuffle of footsteps and popping ankles, until the sound of glass settling on the wood of her nightstand enticed her eyes to slit open, allowing her to hazily see.

Joel's hand had just parted from the circumference of the discolored dishware as Tess blinked the fog from her eyes, leaving behind a full cup of water just for her. Assuming he woke before she did, it was a habit he had adopted every day - one she found endearing. For weeks, she had relentlessly teased him about it, until his brows furrowed and stiffened with sourness. By then, she had worn down his impressive patience. But he had kept doing it, regardless of her snarkiness. As far as the Texan was concerned, the gesture was there to stay, so long as they shared their bed that night, and she could just shut up and take it.

So Tess did. Literally, in hand, as she shifted herself up on one elbow only enough to safely bring the water to her lips and wash down the cotton that clung to her tongue.

True cotton everywhere, from the stained and threadbare sheets to the off-white underwear concealing Joel from her eyes. Even tired as she was, she could clearly recognize the briefs she'd given him that previous week. God knew he'd needed them, the vast majority of his favored boxers unraveling at the seams, but that hadn't stopped him from casting a look of doubt at the Fruit of the Looms, folded nice and neat in their original, if holey, plastic packaging. Tighty whities weren't his choice, had he the luxury of one, but without protest, he had accepted her gift.

In the days since, she hadn't heard the ripping of any more boxers - but she had witnessed her partner pulling his underwear from his ass on plenty of occasions. She'd only sassily commented on half of them.

Now, he seemed to have adjusted to them. However much she approved of the way they hugged his compact, muscular ass and accentuated the size of his package, she preferred him without. Hairy posterior and all, she never tired of seeing how much man she kept satisfied in her bed. The fact that he was out of it, shuffling throughout the apartment and yawning, meant he wasn't where he belonged.

Unless, of course, he was making breakfast, which she knew for a fact he wasn't.

Eventually, Joel padded into the bedroom again with his big bare feet. Had been scratching his furry stomach into a dark tuft of curls, his blunt nails scraping audibly against the crisp hair and the dry skin below, and had raked his way up to his pecs before recognizing her awareness. How he didn't see her intense, albeit subdued interest, was beyond her. And maybe he did - he just didn't comment on it.

"Mornin', Tess," was all Joel drawled at her. He didn't falter in brushing his pelt tiredly or sitting himself on the far edge of the bed, the strong build of his back directed toward her.

Biting her lip at the display of muscles flexing with movement, she felt that undeniable pull of attraction. With it, a welling of arousal in her womb, her breasts tingling. Enough to entice her to glide her hands up her stomach and along their swell, palming them in a way that tickled her clit and had her thighs pressing together around it. Rubbing, even, as she ached to feel the bristles of his beard on her nipples.

Joel was none the wiser, reaching down to presumably fetch something from the floor. Clothes, no doubt, which were unacceptable to her - and goddamnit, she was the boss. She hadn't yet given him her permission. A wry smirk on her lips, she hugged the blanket to her chest, her breasts feeling full and heavy, and worked one of her slender feet out from under the sheet. With cool toes, she brushed her partner’s back and began to walk her touch across it, his torso flinching at the sudden chill.

Outside, the squalling of a hungry seagull, as insatiable as the woman lounging in her bed. Not it, nor the joining of countless other seabirds, could distract their eyes from meeting. Joel had turned only halfway toward her, a silent word on his lips, before he had deciphered the salacious curl on hers, and then his expression grew faintly smug. Once again, it seemed, he'd held back while waiting to look to her for answers...and found the one he wanted, loud and clear.

Tess heard herself purr. Felt it throughout her chest and along the elegant stretch of her throat. "C'mere, big guy," she invited, with the whisper of sheets and the sensual spread of her legs.

Southern gentleman Joel preferred to be, he always obliged a lady.

His weight draped atop her, as he eased between the welcoming framing of her graceful legs, was as comforting as ever. And so very warm, like pleasant fire, accompanied with the tickle-brush of crisp body hair. Not for the first time did she see him as her grizzly bear, furred and brimming with strength, subdued only for her. A tamed beast, driven only of voracious intentions of pleasing her.

The lips that brushed her throat were divine and lingering, bordered by brisk and grizzled whiskers. The bristles teased at her, tempted her, as he mouth traced the gentle acceleration of pulse beneath the vulnerable porcelain of her neck. Soft suction pulled hints of pink to the surface, eliciting a shiver to run through her, chilled and scalding all at once, prickling her skin. Caused her peach fuzz to stand on end, as he rose to nuzzle and nurse at the shell of her ear, hot breath from his nose permeating her hair.

"Good bear," she murmured, in a way that even made her smile. In her languid state, she didn't expect the endearment to leave her tongue...but it did.

A faint, terse snort escaped Joel, and she could feel the bemused curl on his lips as they brushed against her jawline, parted only by the gentle nip of enamel against her smooth, taut skin. In response, she could only tilt her head back and situate herself more closely to the endearing gesture, her hands finding their way into the coarseness of his hair. Carding, encouragingly, through the rough ends of silvering darkness.

Bear needed a trim and soon, but for now...

The press of their lips, followed by her submitting sigh, parting her own to allow Joel that graceful slide inside. His flavor enriched her senses, filling her further, as their tongues danced and pushed together, lazily playful. From his chest, a rich rumble, his hands again on her breasts, pressing them together. Teasing her nipples with faint tweaks and rolling plucks, and then his scratchy palms and digits were trailing down along the corrugation of ribs, the broad brush of his carpeted pectorals pressing firmly against her chest.

Whether time slowed or passed without her notice, it failed to matter. They remained like that, kissing deeply, sharing the faint traces of whiskey from the previous evening. She could smell it, lingering in his scruff, and turned her mouth into it, applying suction to his tongue. In turn, he pressed more closely, furthering her cleavage bunched between their bodies, both man and woman's. The pressure of it tingled throughout the tissue, her nipples tightening as they brushed against him.

Their mouths embraced with the efficiency of their partnership. Familiar lovers, they fell into a rhythm that was gentle and lingering, yet satisfying. Brushes of noses, the tilting of chins, and the sensation of warm air shared between them. All the while, she remained aware of his member, pressed thick and impressive against her. It branded her thigh like glowing steel, tempting her. Making her core ache to be filled by him.

A fine bond of saliva broke between them as Joel pulled back, and yet his lips didn't go far. Instead, they trailed along the precipice of her chin instead, mouthing along her jaw until he savored the column of her purring throat and then her collarbone, before he bowed his head to her chest. Wet, craving kisses covered her supple skin, teasing toward her right nipple. A clever curl and he drew the rosy tip into the heat of his mouth, enclosing her areola, subjecting it to the wonderful swirling of his tongue.

Gasping, her fingers furrowed more deeply into his hair. Held him there, shifting her body greedily, feeling molten electricity flowing and unfurling toward her sex. She arched into him, and even then one of his hands hand was cupping and lifting her generous breast further towards his talented mouth, allowing him to pull at her tight peak over and over again with sucking passes from edge to tip - until she was breathlessly sobbing.

The writhing of her body jolted when he tugged at her gently before releasing her with a damp pop, her engorged nipple leaving his ministrations, glistening and ruby. The grip he maintained continued massaging, stimulating her pliable shape as his mouth proceeded over to her other tit, capturing her dusty peak and subjecting it to the same delicious treatment. By then, when the tips of his teeth turned to nipping and pinching her nipple in between, firmly gripping as he rolled his tongue across it, back and forth and then back again, she could feel herself flowing. Could feel the cream of her pussy spreading down her perineum, collecting on the sheets, soaking in much like the excitement pulsing tight and eager in her womb.

Joel's tongue was smoldering and clever in her mouth suddenly, gliding up inside her moan. She shivered, accepted him, desiring that gentle coaxing. The undulation of it, and the sparks it sent bursting like fireworks beneath her skin, raining glittering trails down to her hard clitoris, had her whimpering into him. Had her hands working beneath his underarms, passing across generous tufts of wiry hair, until she could embrace her forearms behind his neck and curve herself upwards, into him.

The press of his chest, strong and broad against hers, made her quiver and whimper, same as the things his mouth did to hers. Seduced her with the erotic thundering of his heartbeat, so powerful against the shallow panting of her breath, each inhale fanning the embers burning brightly between her legs.

God, how she loved the way his coarse chest hair brushed against her. How it danced along her skin and teased her nipples before she could rub herself against it, and into it, delighting in having such a virile man.

Despite her touch, Joel pulled away. She could sense his obvious reluctance to see it through, and yet he persisted, even despite the chase of her lips. She felt the tension ripple throughout the solid muscles of his shoulders, her eyes lingering closed and relaxed, as he shifted atop her. Then he was guiding her arms apart, only to ease them overhead, smoothing them back into the bed…all to gingerly hold her wrists in one hand while using his other to trail fingers from collar bone, to sternum, along navel...

Lower, just above the trimmed triangle of her mons, grazing and skimming in ways that tickled. That had tension building, enticing her to elongate her gazelle-like form in a long, releasing stretch she felt from her scalp to the tips of her pointed toes.

"Mmm, bear..." she crooned again, a soft smile befitting her equally smooth visage. Joel's chuckle only succeeded in melting her further, like silken chocolate. How she managed this state, so carefree, she couldn't put her finger on and wasn't intent on trying. Maybe later...but for now, she basked in it, curling her fingers lazily. Allowed her head to loll to one side, nosing into her pillowcase.

His hands were together now, palming the arcs of her pelvis. Cradling their feminine curves, his whiskers prickling her sensitive skin as he pressed affectionate, wet kisses to her abdomen. Had her head not been tilted back and her eyes eased shut, savoring each sensation, she may have seen the flare of his nostrils as he drank in the scent of her sex. Instead, she appeared every bit as relaxed as a pampered feline, even as his digits skirted down, across her legs, and grazed the inner silk of her thighs.

Joel's baritone sound of approval rode along her spine as he found her, wet and ready, through the saturated material of her panties. Soaked as they were, the pale violet was all but transparent where her nectar gathered, clinging thin to her swollen lips. Making simple, but easy work of them, those rough-knuckled hands grazed her skin, peeling the worn cotton away. Maneuvered them daintily over her slender ankles and curling toes, he admired their pragmatic femininity and lifted them to his nose. Given into the primal urge, he inhaled her intoxicating scent, and only then reluctantly dropped them down beside the bed.

Tess parted one eye when she felt Joel’s touch return, his palms caressing and holding her legs open. With his thumbs, he glided across swollen lips and slickness to spread her, exposing where she was most tender. Somehow, she had it in her to flush, heat creeping up into her cheeks, darkening and accentuating the dusting of freckles there...grateful that Joel was, same as always, enamored by the sight of her and remained fixated even as he settled into position, seemingly paying no mind to how she arranged her knees atop his shoulders.

Her pussy was simmering, primed and glistening, anticipating - and yet still she arched, as though in pleasant shock, as he touched his lips to her. His sound of hunger fed through her in a white-hot current, emanating from the maw of his chest.

Soft in her hands, the sheets twisted, her body seeking to ground itself against the whims of Joel's clever mouth. The way he traced her vulva with his tongue, curling and slithering, had her biting her lip until it dimpled. Craving his ministrations, her body versed in the pleasure his skill could give her, she tilted her dewy pussy to him eagerly - and he invited it, cupping her ass now, using his grip to lift her into his face and facilitate his feasting.

The heat of his breath on her sex. The way he sipped and stroked and worked his tongue between every fold, passionately consuming every part of her. Probing her entrance, undulating his touch where she was the sweetest, until she begged with gasps and soft bucking of her hips. She all but groaned in delicious torment as he chuckled and pulled away, sucking at elastic inner labia. One after the other, he tasted them, stretched them, rolled them between his lips, only to release them. Lapped the fresh flow of ambrosia from her slit. Did the same to the other before drawing her petals into his magical mouth together, working them up and down until a strangled moan escaped her throat and he purred a timorous note, sending vibrations through to her aching clit.

"Joel, fuck," she keened weakly, needing him there where she pulsed the hottest. Needed to feel his lips wetting her, driving her wild, doing everything she anticipated would hurdle her over the edge and into the stars. Instead, he cast a confident look at her, the hazel of his eyes hooded with honest desire. As if she could forget the man's fixation for eating her as he was, tilting his head to further the lapping ripple of his tongue.

He hummed again, nearly a growl, and dipped down into her entrance, driving deep. Curling that talented muscle, he moved along her quivering walls, gathering her glossy cream. She could just see it on his tongue, as she cast her voyeuristic gaze past the unsteady rise and fall of her chest, her nipples pebbled and straining and aching in time with her clit.

Tess couldn't contain her hiss when he withdrew from her well, licking his lips and taking her taste all for himself - just as she couldn't stop the flick of her hips, up toward him, as he lowered his mouth again and sucked a meandering path up toward her eager pearl. She silently dared him to divert his course - only to shake with a grateful whimper when he didn't. Instead, he slid his lips across her clit. Kissed it. Nuzzled it. Traced it with the tip of his tongue. Then flattened his wet touch across it, laving at it gently and fully until she was clutching the breadth of his shoulders and setting her nails in, grinding greedily into his ministrations.

His name fell from her parted lips, and it was all she could manage. She was too weakened by the skilled way he worked her. Too consumed by the pleasure pooling in her, flowing like warm honey, and the waves of more vibrant stimulation that overtook her.

Tess couldn't help but writhe with it, feeling his grip tighten as he held her steady. Pinned as her hips were, the rest of her contorted and arched, her hair tossing and spilling across the bedding. Linens clutched at her back and the roll of her shoulders, fabric clinging to the dampness of her excitement. That thin perspiration rose to her skin, causing the urgent pound of her pulse to glisten and her peach fuzz glitter and her decolletage to shimmer. Beneath it all, the blooming of blessed pink, spreading throughout her.

With each pass of tongue, each sucking slip of lip, the tension inside her grew tighter. Elevated, escalated, with every passing second until her breath caught in her chest and each moist flick sent shocks of pleasure pooling to her cunt. Her entire body burning in the most heavenly ways, her fingers carving crescents in his skin, she panted, she whined, and she felt herself drawn inside that perfect, tiny point pulled within wet lips and the divine swirl of tongue.

The throbbing explosion of climax struck her. Scattered her flesh among a night sky of white-hot stars. Had her spine bridging the sheets sharply, abruptly, and her hands scrambling for purchase, sweaty and buried in silver-flecked depths. From far away, she could hear herself sobbing, wordless save for a broken name, and nearly lost herself when she felt Joel curling thick digits inside of her, seeking and finding that spot that had her convulsing, her walls contracting fiercely until she could take no more.

“There ya go,” he growled in rich satisfaction – so low, so thick, she barely heard it.

Shock subdued her. The cacophony of her heart faded, and when she returned to herself, she could feel Joel still inside her. Moaned hoarsely as his slippery fingertips brushed the cervix buried deep, the fading rhythm of her contractions fluttering the mouth of her womb against his curious touch like a kiss. He was husking something in that rich, whiskey velvet voice of his. Telling her she was a good girl, she understood belatedly, after he had worked pressing lips up from her soaked sex, along the triangle of pampered hair, so he could lick and French kiss her quivering navel.

She didn't have the strength to deter him. Didn't want to, which she wanted to hate. That term of endearment was only meant for now, in this place, otherwise forbidden unless kept between them. Like a secret, never to be uttered elsewhere. Because forbid a God who didn't exist, no one dare know she reacted to it - with fondness and warmth. The woman in question never willingly allowed her partner to know the effect his words had on her, but the rare glimpse of affection glinting in hazel eyes suggested he knew.

Settling back into the sheets, her buttery muscles and pliable skin melding into them, Tess turned her head to the side and simply allowed herself to breathe. Aftershocks of her release still trembled through her body, whispering throughout her in warm waves. She didn't have the will to do more than stroke lazy fingers through Joel's salt and pepper mane while he palmed her breasts again and kissed them exquisitely in turn, enticing her to sigh contentedly.

"Took ya long enough," came his teasing, belated and smug. A dangerous mix from any other man but she tolerated it with him - especially after hard she'd come. She wanted to glare at him, even in jest, but couldn't manage that. Instead, she swatted lightly at him in the process of bringing her right hand upwards and resting the backs of her digits along her forehead.

Joel was, she knew, referring to the fact that she usually went more readily than that. Hell, she even had the evening before, after they had returned to her apartment at the demand of curfew. They had relieved some much needed stress soon after, with her braced atop the couch on her knees and her hands desperately clutching the backrest. From behind, Joel had fucked her like she’d been a mare needing to be broken, fisting her hair and slapping her ass and forcing the concave of her spine as she fought back against him.

He had ridden her hard and put her away wet. Their fucking had been the definition of it - so much that she still wondered how she wasn't sore and raw as hell, but then that was their norm. Her pussy was made to take a good, deep beating. They had both proven that.

Feeling his callus hands caress her flanks, Tess wondered if Joel's softer demeanor that morning was in consideration to his harsher treatment the night before. Immediately upon thinking it, she doubted it. It didn't often matter what they had done during their last time together. The only thing that really influenced their getting off again was whether or not Joel had relieved his bladder since and cleaned the pipes out a few times. While Joel pissing a stream and shaking off wasn't the most wonderful sight, it was necessary if she allowed him inside of her again. Birth control was entirely reliant on abstinence - which they sure as hell didn't do - and the withdrawal method. With how obediently Joel obliged her without argument, it was a given he hadn't been snipped.

Fingers, however, were welcomed so long as they were as clean as could be, washed of blood and gunpowder and god knew what else...and her body proved it, welcoming him inside her again. Had his fingers ever left her? She couldn't be certain, still aloft in that cozy haze, and he was being gentle as he undulated two thick digits within her, wandering her walls and swirling themselves in her thick, copious come.

Slitting one eye, as she stretched again like a contented cat, Tess observed Joel watching himself as he withdrew his fingers. As he stared hungrily down at the gloss coating them, sweet and earthy. As he parted his digits, a slick ribbon of her nectar stretching between them, draping slowly until he smeared them together again and then marveled, tirelessly, at the wetness that still flowed from her.

"Goddamn," he husked, bringing his hand to his mouth. Slowly he eased his tongue over the slick of her come, capturing its drip on his taste buds. The sound that escaped him was of a satisfied lion, and yet he could never get enough. Proved it by polishing his coated skin clean, and then dipping his hand back down to ease inside again.

Pleasantly, she sighed, craving his touch still. Her pussy swallowed him willingly, open and plump with lust. Closing her eyes, delighting in the feel of him working her over, filling her with leisurely fucking touch, she could all but see the act unfold. Felt a primal pang at being penetrated by him, moaning quietly, the massage of his big fingers filling her with a slow, scorching fire.

Side by side, the pair pushed into her. Pulled out, spreading her abundant slickness. Rode through it with tantalizing patience, her hips gradually lifting from the bed to meet them. Minutes passed, pressure building, pooling at the base of her spine. Spreading towards her clit and outward, even, to the perineum brushed by his knuckles, sensitive and soaking. She wanted his tongue there, she thought, the craving causing her breath to hitch and her core to throb. He would if she asked, she knew. Would do so without hesitation, but his cock couldn't get any harder. That, she could see, as she bowed her head and devoured the sight between his legs: his hefty manhood twitching, shaft rigid and veiny, a generous stream of precome slowly descending from the slit. His balls, swollen and heavy and full beneath it, looking desperate for relief.

She reached for it. Caught the tip, his reaction immediate, her fingers bathed in a slippery cling of precome. His breath hitched, his brow furrowed, and he shifted himself closer, instinctively offering himself to her.

With underlying tones of desperation, Joel shuffled himself nearer. Allowed her confident grip take hold of him, assessing him from tip to base and then back again. It never failed to satisfy her how hung he was. Thick as her fist, almost, his length as impressive as the rest of him. Had her fingers not been so long, she couldn't have held all of his straining girth. Even then, the way he pulsed parted the kiss of her fingertips, his erection begging her with its smoldering heat.

Tess found herself enamored as always, not just by the generous weight of him but by the velvet feel of his skin, stretched taut to its limits around virile strength and the elevated pulse of his heartbeat.

He felt amazing inside her anywhere and in her hand was no different. There was something simply mesmerizing about the steady tempo of his heart. And the way fresh beads of excitement pooled at the tip when she squeezed him, stroked him, teased him, as lewd and carnal as the veins that textured him.

She loved how hard she made him.

"Want something?" she toyed, feigning innocence - that they both knew, with absoluteness, that she'd never had. To which he gave her the faintest smirk, the darkening of his eyes suggesting a thorough distraction, lacking focus.

"Yeah," he breathed, and the absence of denial or teasing almost made her want to laugh. Even blunt as Joel was, it wasn't beyond him to offer some playful banter or show stubborn restraint - on the regular. Perhaps it was too early in the morning for anything but honesty...or he saw no reason to hide his need.

Her heart swelling with something unspeakable, she softened the cocking of brow and cupped one of his bearded cheeks in her other hand, using it to draw him downwards into a consenting, nuzzling kiss.

Joel was nearly breathless as they tasted each other, his body tense with excitement. He shivered, each time she passed her thumb across his tip, smearing the sweet precome she loved the taste of. Need mounting, his mouth pressed more heavily to hers, but still he was so patient and leisurely, allowing her to set the pace, taking the cues from her lounging body. This morning, they would take their time appreciating each other, and her heart was warm and ready.

She could have sucked him. Could have pressed her hand to his carpeted chest and directed him to the bed. He would have obliged, obediently, and she would have made her way to that prize after kissing and lingering at his taut abs. Could have traced her tongue in all the divots and chiseled topography of his strong, lean body while wandering her way to where he craved her touch, and taken him in with a brush of her mouth, filling herself with his masculine flavors and musk. But now, the way he was leaning into her and setting his teeth to the side of her neck, pressing her head back, elicited a primordial submission. She could only lay back, pressing her head into the bed, and drew him closer by his rock-hard member.

Names were spoken quietly, with hers husked from his lips first. They brushed over her face, as tangible as the kisses he pressed to her brow, nose, and cheekbone, tenderer than she dare expect. Or even think he was capable of, had she not known that side of him, as both a romantic and a paternal lover. Always protecting her. Always following her beck and command. Always providing for her, whenever allowed by her pride...and always, in some means, true to his nature.

So when his hands sought her inner thighs again, and he hovered over her, lightly brushing his lips over hers, she knew he awaited permission. Even despite having it, as she spread her legs open to him and drew hints of nails up the nape of his neck, causing him to shiver. She gave a wordless murmur, turning her head to the side and giving her neck in offering, knowing where his face belonged when he entered her. Certain where she wanted it, as she hugged her thighs around his slender hips and urged him in, matching his perfect poise.

Still, she knew he needed it. Wanted to hear it, even. So she murmured it, sinking back into that heavenly languor again, born from the trust she had in him.

“Any time now, Texas.”

His fingers were inside her again, coating themselves in her silken wetness. His thumb found her clit, swirling and rolling around her twitching nub, rubbing pleasure into her again until she was writhing. Easing back slowly, he withdrew from her, only to take himself in hand, slicking himself with the proof of her excitement, soothing her possessive grip to his base. Then, lowering his gaze with riveted intensity, he guided himself to her body. Fit himself against her, hard tip to dripping slit, and pressed himself inside.

God knew it wasn't their first time - not even close, not for years - but oh, how she gasped as his cock parted her. Opened her, with each thick inch, as he eased himself gradually inside. With how receptive she was, with how ready, she could have taken him with one delightful stretch, and yet he drew out the moment. Teased them both as he spread her wide and patiently docked himself deep, to the hilt, with a satisfied tremor.

Lips parted, Tess breathed deeply, bathed in sensation. Felt her eyes roll back before she could see again, her toes curling as she witnessed the sight of them. Her body, pale as ivory, contrasted starkly against the thick darkness of his hair. The hour glass figure of her shape, composed of slim curves, to the broad shoulders and triangular taper of her brutally male partner.

Their skins still carried signs of their struggles, contusions and scrapes littering their flesh, and yet they faded in that moment, failing to represent it. Scars only united them, proving that they were worthy of each other. That they were both survivors, both fighters, and had amassed most protecting each other. Providing cover, even. From her vantage point, she couldn't see the many Joel had collected from shielding her with his own flesh and bone...but, as he pressed close and aligned their chests, she could feel them beneath the impassioned caress of her hands. Could trace the rough, risen tissues and feel the haphazard overlap of adhesions.

Just as she had yearned for, Joel’s face fell to rest where it belonged, in the crook of her neck and shoulder. Bristles of beard brushed against her, simultaneously soft and roughr. The blunt shape of his nose as he nestled in, warming her skin humid as he exhaled a beholden breath. The border of his big arms as they held most his weight - too much, she felt, craving all of him.

With her partner pressing, finally, against the entrance of her womb, their mouths met and trapped their moans. Delectable, carnal, they began rolling their hips together, her hands sliding grip the hard muscles of his ass. Parting the erotic dance of their tongues, Joel raised his lips to her forehead and husked out his approval, grazing her brow with the silvered fringe of his chin, before turning his cheek against her and bracing himself there with the first pull of his hips.

Slick, delicious friction followed that smooth subtraction...and as soon as she was nearly empty, he rocked forward again, urging her pelvis into his thrust. With it, a ripple of sensation sang along her spine, born from within her core, furthered by the thatch of his manhood pressing against her tender hood. The feel of that alone had her breath catching, and then she was groaning again, deep and hearty, at the feel of him pressing to her cervix. Again and again, each thrust audibly creamy, she reveled in his masculinity and grazed blunt nails along his body, lightly marking him.

They could do this, she reminded herself as they kissed, sensual and fluid. Be together in gentle, quiet ways. They had done it before and the world hadn't ended. Cordyceps had seen to that. Nor had their partnership been destroyed or even interrupted, assuring that they were very much capable of satisfying these softer, easier urges.

It was understandable, living an existence of violence and hard labor. Breaking heads and busting ass. Enduring sprains and bruises and lacerations. Their lifestyle was full of pain and little else. Surviving now necessitated struggle, and they were immune to nothing. Not even each other. Never each other. Not like this.

They found pleasure in each other but often fucked like they fought: fast and merciless. Sometimes, when their urges didn't burn so white-hot and aggressive, or they were too exhausted or sore for it, their sex was more casual. After all their years together, that was most common, with plenty of satisfying roughhousing. Often, their times together involved integrating a bit of both, mood permitting, and they were so adept at reading each other that they didn't even think on it - just went for it, taking cues from each other's bodies.

But this....was far more intimate - or could be construed as such. That was, if either of them made the mistake of wondering if it was more than it was. It wasn't. Instead, their trust in each other enabled these more tender times together, the most infrequent of them all, and it was simply a matter of comfort. A means of regaining some gentle, easy element in their lives. To remind themselves that they were indeed capable of experiencing such peaceful pleasure and have that escape from the tainted world beyond.

There was nothing more to it. It wasn't love, just as it wasn't lust. It was simply them enjoying each other's bodies. Milking them for pure satisfaction. Getting off, same as always, but without gymnastics. They didn't tear open themselves and spill their souls to each other, same as they didn't topple furniture in the apartment. Didn't proclaim romance and emotions that had no place anywhere between them. And they weren't reckless enough to read into it.

It wasn't always like this - with care and patience accentuating their movements. But perhaps some mornings were meant for this, peaceful and leisurely, allowing them to indulge in that passionate act. To relish in the details and draw out their enjoyment, with respect to aches and bruises. After all, for as flawless as it felt, contusions still cascaded across their skins. Sores remained present, clotted and rough to the touch, and taxed ligaments might have protested against more vigorous movements.

By unspoken mutual agreement, they knew they both needed this. Not often, but on appreciated occasions, where their pulses didn't run dangerously high and their breaths didn't run ragged and they didn't bruise from the violent collision of hips. There was plenty of time for that. Many opportunities that thrilled them and made them crave it again and again. But without this...comfortable, physical bonding, where everything was seamless and fluid and stirring...she sensed that the connection between them might not be so steadfast.

Later, she could run from what that meant. For now, she allowed herself to be swept away with it. To meld with Joel and draw him in, with arms and wet silken walls, her pussy caressing him.

Everything became a pastel, sultry haze.

Softly spoken, wordless sounds conveyed how good he made her feel. Gentle groans, panting gasps, expressed her pleasure from being beneath him. From feeling his stronger, larger body, and the mindful way his weight pinned her, considerate of her comfort. And yet she drew him closer, tightening her thighs where they framed his lean waist, hooking at slender ankles.

In time, he lifted himself off her. Arranged himself on his haunches, anchoring his hands on her hips to draw her into his thrusts, never faltering in the rhythm he made for them. Able to see her now, laid out and bare to him, he fixed her with heavily-lidded eyes, their forest of hazel glazed over with sensation. That way, she could see the affect her body had on him. Feel pangs of lust strike her gut at the way his expression, so mature and handsome, intensified with sensation. And shiver in anticipation when his severe features softened and subdued with bliss, whispers of "Jesus" and "Good God" escaping him.

It was all too easy to lose herself in it. To let go and allow Joel to take the reins. He never minded. Never protested, instead gliding broad hands across her warm, glowing skin to possessively caress her breasts. To gather them and cradle in his heavy palms. To arc strokes of battered thumbs over the pebbled peaks of her nipples, seducing them to swirl tighter with sensitivity.

His touch glided, following the guiding arch of her feline spine, until they stroked along her hips, easing beneath them. Anchored there, along her curves, to tilt her into the push and pull of his pelvis. Drew her closer, lifting and rolling her into each stroke, enticing her to melt back onto the bed in bliss. To allow the sensations he bestowed upon her to turn her to wax, her nerves shimmering with it, the cool haze of the morning growing molten with pleasure.

Their gazes met amidst all of it, mouths slack and visages softened with indulgence. If Joel wanted to savor their time together, who was she to argue? If he wanted to focus on every inch of her, and draw out the physical experience of their sex, juicing it for all it was worth, then it lent her the ability to do the same...and allow them both to bask in the nuances lost when their fucking was harsh and frenzied and adrenaline-fueled, racing toward orgasm.

As it was, her body felt positively alive with the promise of orgasm. She could feel it right there, not even out of reach, but she didn't quite grasp for it. Didn't have a need. At other times, remaining on the cusp might have been frustrating...but she had climaxed the night before and had, already, that morning...so being suspended in that state just shy of it, where everything felt heady and sensitive and amazing, was welcomed. At any moment, she could have slid a hand between her legs and propelled herself over that exhilarating edge. One flick and she'd be there.

A deep grind sent her over the precipice instead, unexpected and just right. She should have seen her partner staring deeply into her eyes, recognizing her need, but she could only grasp as the steel of his body. Scramble her hands up his flexing hips, his rigid abdomen, his rippling chest, until she found purchase on his biceps and arched, her body lifting off the bed, as the pleasure evolved into a profound, quaking throb.

It erupted in her clit. Resonated in her womb, spreading like a wildfire that greedily consumed her. She could only cry out unintelligibly, her deep, womanly groan pulling up from her stomach, her nails cutting crescents, her hair dampened by the thin sweat summoned from her blushing skin.

Joel's growl cut through the percussion of her pulse, adding to her aftershocks - the same as his slow gyrations did, stirring her to the core. Milking, in the best of ways, the outpour of her ecstasy, brushing the thick thatch of his pubic hair against her clit, stimulating it with damp pressure. All to feel her walls contract and quiver around him, his cock growing hotter in her spilling fluids.

"Christ," he grated as she settled, her head lolling to the side. She felt weak. Rubbery. Tired, and even then she mustered just enough willpower to lick her lips at his expression. Barely had the strength to swat his hand away as he reached between them, intending to nudge at her clit and roll it with his slippery thumb – but fuck, she was too overwhelmed to take it.

He was so close, even she could taste it. There was no denying the tenseness of his jaw and the tight draw of his brows, furrowed from fighting his urges. His teeth grit together, the muscles in his throat jumping as he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing, and the creases in his forehead were misted with perspiration. It collected on his temples, his hairline darkened further with it, and she could see a single droplet snake down his pronounced cheekbone as he squeezed his eyes shut, fissures deepening and spreading outward from their corners.

She moaned huskily at the depths of his thrusts, each bottoming out, full of anticipation she didn't dare name. And yet she felt it, even knowing he would remain diligent, would control himself just enough, even if it didn't seem he would. Even if some carnal instinct of hers hoped he wouldn’t hold back. Because god, she wanted to feel him become overtaken by his need and pulse inside of her, releasing every forbidden stream. To hear him cry out, guttural and primal, as he unloaded the burden in his swollen, slapping balls, and flood her with danger and forbidden desire and reckless abandon only she could trigger in him.

Rapidly Joel’s thrusts were becoming uneven, his rhythm failing, and still he forced himself deep. Had bitten his lip and tilted his head back, plunging himself into her willing body, the tendons in his arms twisting with restraint. Once, and then twice, she could feel his hips stutter, his breath catching in his throat, and his body all but freeze. She thought to coax him, to clench her cunt around him and drive him over the line - and then he was gusting out an exhale. Withdrew himself with an audible pop of juices and leaned back on his haunches, cursing through his ragged respiration.

Humming, Tess drew graceful hands down herself. Starting at her ribs, she followed the dip of her abdomen and the athletic divot toward her navel, trailing lackadaisical fingers lower. Despite anticipating her own intentions, she still twitched as she grazed through trimmed hair, then shivered as she progressed lower, feeling herself soaking wet and plump to the touch. Nerves ran hot as she entered herself with two fingers, feeling how far his cock had opened her, and how swollen snug she was inside.

Head bowed and shoulders heaving, Joel was a sight to behold. All sinew and tightly bound muscle filled to the brim with sexual frustration. His body hair glistened with a sheen of sweat, the faint dusting of silver throughout accentuated by the stark contrast with black. For as much as his body physically strained for release, his member jutting from his body, hard as granite, he somehow maintained control – all while his arousal angrily protested his moral, red from the pulse pounding within it.

Coquettish as a feline, Tess rose on all fours, driven by her hunger for him. She was surprised by her finesse at doing so, despite her spine feeling malleable and her muscles weakened by her climaxes, but not even they could detract from her determination.

Their lips met, deceptively soft despite the demanding erection poised between them. She had to give Joel credit - for being so aroused, he remained loyal to her guidance, allowing her to set the delicate pace of their kiss. She slithered her tongue between his parted lips, thrusting in and out of the smoldering orifice, a hungry moan emanating from his rugged chest. His hands were on her ass, consuming her curves, molding each cheek in his grasp, as she pressed her breasts to his pecs. Let him feel her nipples, pebbled and responsive, as she carded her hand through the scruff of his abdomen.

Dangerous as Joel could be, she couldn't help but tease him. Smiled wryly into the slick brush of their tongues as she stroked curious thumbs over his nipples and tweaked each in turn, earning a broken groan. She then bit his lower lip, sinking her teeth firmly into its fullness, pulling back to subject it to the sweetest tension. Then released, stroking her tongue over it slowly, making him grunt and pant, before she sucked at it, making love to that supple flesh.

When she pushed at him, hands on his pecs, he went. Fell to the bed with a willingness that made her snicker as she playfully followed him.

Seeing him there, splayed and hard in her bed, went to her head. Filled her with pride and possessiveness, the wetness of her sex and sweat claiming him. His beard smelled of her pussy, same as his pubic hair and weathered hands. He had dedicated his time to satisfying her, and still hadn't made any requests in return...a subservience she wanted to reward, and generously at that.

Hard as Joel was, she knew it wouldn't take much to make him come. The way he shuddered as she enclosed him in her fist was proof enough, reinforced by the shameless spill of precome that poured from his tip. Smirking to herself, she squeezed her way down to his base, gripping it firmly when she reached it. Watched keenly as he rolled his head back, gulping down a breath. And then she was lowering hers, brushing her mouth against the most sensitive part of him, relishing in his reaction: the terse hiss in his throat, the sharper twist of his hands in the sheets, and the faint buck of his hips that conveyed his irrepressible impatience.

Tess smothered her hungry moan with him, taking the length of him in. Could have drawn it out, could have lingered, could have swirled her tongue around every inch. Instead she embraced him tightly, sucking and bobbing, embracing his girth with concave cheeks, using them to work his member with special attention to the tip, focusing her skill to flick and swirl and circle his sensitive ridge.

Another man might have seized her head, pulled her hair, and made the painful mistake of trying to control her - but Joel, even in his lust, respected her. Instead, his fingers found wavy tresses. Captured them, gathering their strands even as he grunted and shook. Collected their length, moving it back. Even as his thighs twitched and the pressure built and his inhalations became increasingly ragged, sensation beginning to overwhelm him, he still smoothed back that tousled auburn. Still caressed her freckled cheekbone with the backs of his knuckles and husked her name, breathless and rugged. In return, she gathered his heavy testicles in hand and rolled them, even as she slurped and bobbed and worshiped him.

The massaging of her hand, combined with finesse of her mouth, had him bucking. She could feel his orgasm the instant he did, recognizing the sudden swell of him between her lips.

Joel came with a sharp inhale and then a bit off curse, his reverent groan of her name following. Broken as it was, she still recognized it and moaned around his swelling, jolting cock. The twitches on her tongue gave way to jerking, strong pulses, his copious release fill the inside of her working, gliding mouth.

Never once did she stop, coaxing the throb of his shaft with the pumping twist of her hand while at the same time, running her tongue over him and marveling at the way the muscles in his thighs twitched in time with his cock. 

The sight of his head thrown back, the scars of his gnarled knuckles bleaching white as they seized and wrung at the sheets beneath, was rewarding as could be. Tasting him, thick and generous and briny, she took everything he had to give. For as long as she had known him, he had always been a virile man. Always came like he hadn't in days, even if she regularly drained his balls in one way or another. And this - she knew it drove him crazy. Didn't need his grateful rasps or the bared grit of his perfect teeth or the satisfied relaxing of his brow to convince her of that.

Second to her ass, he had told her, shooting his load in her mouth was the best orgasm a man could have. Even then, that had never stopped him from pumping his seed all over her stomach and breasts.

She knew just how to bring him down from that high. How to treat him right, just how he liked. Knew when to soften her sucking and glide tenderly with her tongue, prolonging his pleasure without over-stimulating. With her lips, she gripped him, gliding them up and down his length, coaxing each waning pulse to coat her tongue in every last drop.

Purring like the cat that had got the cream, she swallowed the last of it, casting her eyes up Joel's body to see his sweat-drenched chest rising and falling rapidly, the scruff of his throat shifting around his relieved sigh. In a matter of elated heartbeats, his eyes met hers and he reached down to her, cupping the point of her chin. He drew her to him by it, gently and patiently, and she crawled up his body, a tender heat behind her breasts as they swayed and brushed the hair of his chest. Then they were kissing, his tongue warm in her mouth, captivating her senses until she knew nothing else.

When he pulled away, she found herself chasing his mouth for a scant second, and then she simpered softly.

So much for a productive morning. Joel looked thoroughly exhausted, and from the way his thick arms settled around her, ensconcing her as she fit herself to his side, she knew what his intentions were. He was a man after all, and after how well he had filled her, she knew a nap was in order. He was nearly fifty, after all, even if age hadn’t affected his sexual appetite any.

Only a few years to go until that benchmark...and from the way he admired her lips, tracing his thumb along them as though remembering the pleasure they had provided him, one thing was certain: he sure as hell wouldn't slow down by then.

"Can't say I never gave ya breakfast in bed," he told her, his voice a low and lazy thunder.

She snorted, teasing the fur that tickled her, as she nuzzled her cheek into it.

"Always," she sighed with a verbal roll of her eyes, "so romantic..."

**Author's Note:**

> Just a reminder that reviews are an author's best motivation. :)
> 
> Might be more smut and other smuggler action to come - with most being far filthier and rougher. I wouldn't consider this my usual writing style. I blame my estrogen.


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